Love is a Many Splendored Thing
by irenadorable
Summary: What Valentine's Day is like at PPTH. Six short vignettes.


Foreman flipped idly through the radio stations as he drove to work. He finally settled on one playing jazz hits, then frowned when an annoying radio announcer interrupted the soothing music. The voice boomed out of the car's speakers, telling his listeners to "Call in with stories of what you're going to do for that special someone. After all folks, it's February 14th, and you know what that means!" Crap. He realized what day it was and quickly went into panic mode. He became so immersed in his thoughts that he had to slam on his brakes to avoid rear-ending a car.

Valentine's Day didn't mean much when he was younger, but now Foreman saw it as a time of unfulfilled expectations and numerous chances to screw up. He suspected that Wendy had tons of boyfriends over the years and that she was counting on him to give her a really nice gift and take her out on a romantic date.

Foreman sighed and dug his cell phone out of his coat pocket. He scrolled down to the number of their favorite restaurant and started to make a reservation for eight o'clock, but hung up mid-sentence. He and Wendy had a good relationship; the sex was good and they made each other laugh. But he was kidding himself if he thought it was going to last. And worse, what if _she _thought it was going to go somewhere, what if she started picking out a dress and sending invitations?

It was nothing against Wendy. Foreman just didn't like the idea of spending his whole life with the same person. Either people hurt each other and got divorced, or they got sick of each other and had to spend every day with someone they hated. He didn't want that.

He pulled out the brochure for the nursing school in Boston. He made some calls, and she was in if she wanted to go. There was no use in putting off the inevitable, and at least she would get something out of it too. "I'm just like House," he said to himself. "Damn."

---

Cameron rushed through the hospital lobby, clutching a cup of coffee. She was slightly on edge because some idiot had almost hit her when she was turning to get Starbucks on her way to work. The fact that it was Valentine's Day just made her bad mood worse.

She was only in a relationship on February 14th once, and he died three months later. That day, she went to her classes and then rushed to the hospital to be with Richard. Instead of cards and flowers, there was a hospital room with ugly green walls and a trash can full of vomit. Richard had his chemo that morning, and the resulting nausea was a great deal worse than usual. She wiped his forehead with a washcloth and told him that everything would be okay, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

Joe came by after he got off work and sat with the two of them. He brought a movie, but Richard fell asleep ten minutes after it started, so Cameron turned the TV off and got ready to go home. She kissed her husband on the cheek and whispered "Happy Valentine's Day."

As they left the room, Joe asked Cameron if she'd eaten and offered to take her out for a burger. She said she'd like that and they spent the evening consoling each other with empty words, telling themselves that telling themselves the chemo would work and Richard would get better.. After they said goodbye, Cameron was walking to her car when she heard Joe call her name. "Happy Valentine's Day, Allison!" he yelled, waving a gloved hand in the air. She smiled; glad that at least someone remembered.

As Cameron sipped her coffee and walked into the Diagnostics office, she felt disgusted with herself and tried to block the memory of falling in love with her dying husband's best friend from her mind.

---

Wilson handed his secretary a bag of art supplies and instructed her to take it to the children's cancer ward so they could make Valentines. As he walked into his office, he noticed an envelope on the floor with "To Jimmy" written in a familiar scrawl on the front. He tore open the envelope and saw a beautiful pink card that read "To my husband, from your loving and devoted wife." Under that was some poetry and inside was a heartfelt message to Daryl from Susan. Wilson sighed.

He suspected House chose the card on purpose, but there was no way House could have known what it said; the envelope was sealed when Wilson found it. In Wilson's mind, the words Valentine's Day were synonymous with failure. This was inevitable; after all, three wives plus hundreds of flowers and dozens of candy boxes plus three subsequent divorces clearly equaled a lack of success in the romance department. Susan's letter to Daryl just served to remind him of this.

Wilson sulked as he thought about the fact that he currently lived in a hotel and paid alimony three times a month. Then he glanced at the card again and thought about his sarcastic, card-stealing friend. Come to think of it, most of the fights he had with his past wives were _about _House. He flipped his cell phone open and pressed 1 on the speed dial. House's voicemail informed him that he shouldn't leave a message unless he wanted to be severely mocked. "Hey, I got the card. I guess it's the thought that counts, right? I'll come by your place after work tonight for beer and pizza."

He thought once more about all the arguments he had with Andrea, Ellen, and Julie. All the times he ditched them for House and the quarrels that ensued. Was it worth it? Definitely.

---

Chase strode quickly through the hospital. Their patient was steadily getting worse, and although House said there was nothing more they could do today, he wanted to get to the parking lot before his cranky boss changed his mind. He passed the kids' cancer ward and saw that Wilson had brought the children some art supplies to make Valentines. He paused for a second, watching as they glued together hearts and tied ribbons into bows.

Before she died, Chase's mother made him a special card every Valentine's Day. She loved crafts, so it was always completely over-the-top, with doilies and ribbons and red and pink construction paper. She would prop it up on his night table, so it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up that day. The inside of the card would read something like "Dear Robert, I love you and hope you have a wonderful day. Love, Mum". Chase thought about the cards as he drove home and walked into his apartment.

Chase didn't bring many personal effects with him when he moved to America, but he did take a box of his mother's things that he saved after her death. He kept it in his closet and rarely thought about it. Today, however, he opened his closet door and shoved aside the clothes that littered the floor.

It was a plain brown box, a little scuffed from the airplane cargo hold and moving van trunk. He pulled apart the flaps and surveyed the box's contents. He saw a bit of ribbon poking out from under a stack of pictures. Chase dug the Valentines out and opened the top one. It was dated 1981 and read "To Robert: You can't read this yet, but I love you with all my heart. Love, Mum." He read each of them, one for every year until he was sixteen. That was the year after his father left and his mother turned to alcohol. After that, she was never sober long enough to make him anything, especially a card for a holiday associated with love. He suspected she stopped believing in love after his father left.

Chase closed the box and pushed it into the back of his closet. "Miss you, Mum," he said.

---

House pushed his apartment door open and threw his coat on a chair. Today was interesting. He stole a card for Wilson and totally got away with it, and Cuddy's lack of yelling almost distracted him from his patient's continuously declining health. If the medication didn't start working, she would probably die. And there was nothing he could do but wait.

He propped his feet up on the coffee table and flipped through the TV channels. Nearly every one had some sort of Valentine's Day marathon event, so he settled for some TiVoed _Spongebob_ episodes. House was annoyed with the Hallmark holiday for ruining his television routine, and for being generally irritating and commercialized.

House and Stacy made a point to never celebrate Valentine's Day. She didn't believe in a set day to express love for someone, and he didn't like holidays. To them, February 14th was just another day. It consisted of watching slasher movies and mocking bad TV dating shows (and each other), eating greasy fast food, and drinking cheap beer. There were no chocolates or flowers, no sentimental romantic evenings or fancy restaurants.

The click of a key in a lock announced Wilson's arrival. "I brought pizza," he said, setting down the boxes and walking to the kitchen to get beer. "What're we watching?" he called as he pulled two bottles from the refrigerator.

"Spongebob," House replied. "All the networks have stupid Valentine crap on."

"What a romantic," Wilson joked. "Has Hallmark heard about you?"

House just smiled and reached for a piece of pizza. Wilson sat down and handed him a beer.

"No big Valentine's plans tonight?" House asked.

"Just hanging out here," Wilson replied. "I rarely do much else."

The two clinked beer bottles as House replied "I guess we're each other's Valentines then."

---

Cuddy considered Clinic duty a welcome distraction after listening to an irate woman complain about how yesterday a cane-wielding psycho stole a card she bought for her husband.

She spent an hour listening to complaints about sore throats and 98.9 fevers and explaining to a freaked-out gymnast that not getting her period just meant that she was over-training, not that someone raped her in her sleep and got her pregnant. Just when she was starting to understand House's general dislike for humanity, an attractive man walked into her exam room.

She smiled at him and silently prayed that he didn't have a horribly off-putting medical condition. "I'm Dr. Cuddy," she said, "What brings you to Princeton-Plainsboro?"

"My law firm got a new health insurance provider. Everyone has to get blood tests and physicals," he replied, handing her a crisp white sheet of paper.

Good, she thought as she quickly skimmed the form. There didn't seem to actually be anything wrong with him. They chatted as she drew his blood and examined him, and by the end of the visit, she was telling an amusing story about the time one of her more…eccentric…colleagues used a wheelchair for a week to win a bet. He countered with a bit of legal humor that was, surprisingly, actually funny.

They talked for a while longer and then he glanced at the clock. "I've got to get going," he said. "Or the firm will think the hospital found something wrong with me. Would you want to continue this over dinner?"

Cuddy smiled and thought of how to handle this. "I'm sorry," she said, avoiding eye contact. "I have a very busy schedule and I don't think I can handle a relationship right now. It's sad, because you seem like a great guy."

He told her that it was okay and walked out of the room. As the door closed, she heard House yelling at one of the nurses and cursed him for being so damn charismatic. If he was just a plain old asshole, it would be much more difficult to like him. But he was witty and intelligent, and she knew that despite the façade, there were things he was capable of caring about.


End file.
